Dancing on Hot Coals
by JazzyCat
Summary: I walked into the bathroom that particular evening and found myself staring at a boy. But not just any boy. The world's hottest boy. Who was wearing no more than I was at the moment...and that wasn't very much at all. UNDERGOING REVIEW.
1. Chapter 1

Living alone has its benefits. I'm only sixteen, but since my parents are almost always away on business, I'm on my own a lot. Most of the time, actually.

But because of this, I can clean, cook, balance a check book, do the laundry, do the grocery shopping, and still keep up with my studies…to a point. I'm a very self-sufficient person at a very young age, and my parents are very proud of me. But it's a normal occurrence. I'm used to it. I have to be. This isn't going to change anytime soon, so I can't complain. I have to accept it.

My mother works overseas as an ambassador. She's got a very important job in representing our country to others, and while she's famous in the world of politics, I'm glad that she left me home. I don't think I'd be able to keep up with her world. Plus, I'd hate to be in the spotlight. Politicians' children are always involved in some terrible scandal. I'd like to avoid that. I like my life the way it is, though I do admit I'd like to see my mother more.

My father is a writer. It is his passion, his calling…or so he tells me every time I see him. He's currently researching his newest work overseas as well. I believe it has something to do with the life of an American businessman. Or something equally boring (I still encourage you to read the book, as this is what puts food on my table). I think my parents are secretly on another honeymoon together and they just didn't want me to be insulted. I'll let them have their fun.

I live in a small, modest house. My parents could afford more—in fact, they have offered to let me move somewhere bigger—but I like where I am. It's small. Most of the time I'm the only one here anyway, so I wouldn't be comfortable living alone in a huge house.

And it's not that our house is small at all. It's actually a very nice sized house. There are two bedrooms—one is mine and the other is a guest room (that we never use); my parents sleep in the attic, which they converted into a bedroom/study, and they're never there anyway, since they're living out of suitcases—one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and if you turn off the TV, we also have a dining room. There are two floors, of course, though most of the houses surrounding ours are single-story homes. I begged my parents for a two-story place, because I wanted a view of the Sakura trees during the spring.

And they're beautiful.

I've got an average home, a little-less-than-average family, and an overall average life. I go to school, of course, like any good child should. It is the law after all. And I'm a fairly good student. I always do my homework and I'm never in trouble at school. I get good grades in every subject (except biology, but I get help after school for that one) and I've never caused anyone any trouble.

I've got average looks. I'm a little on the shorter side at five feet and four inches tall. My eyes are brown, and my hair is brown as well. They're almost exactly the same shade, actually. My hair falls to the middle of my back but I usually have it up in pigtails to keep it out of my way. Otherwise it would hang in my face while I'm working on homework or cooking. My face is an average shape, and sits atop an average neck and shoulders. I'm on the slender side, but I have no real shape to my body. I'm straight as a wooden plank, unfortunately. No chest, no hips. But I don't really mind. It suits me fine, I suppose. And I don't really want a boyfriend anyway. Boys interfere with the studies.

My best friend's name is Hotaru. She's the best girl I've ever met in my life and I love her like a sister. Back when I was in grade school, her parents used to let her come over all the time because I was scared to be alone. Of course, I'm over that fear now, and Hotaru doesn't come over as often as she used to, but we're still close. And I love her for it. God only knows I need _someone_ who's always around.

And I don't mean that to be mean to my parents. In order to be happy, they need to work. In order to keep food on the table as well. My table. I won't lie, I've toyed with the idea that maybe I was an accident, but I quickly brush that away and remind myself that my parents obviously love me, or they would have given me up.

And while my life might sound boring and uninteresting, I'll tell you now that I don't mind that. Not one bit. I like being average, boring, plain, and alone.

…

Oh, who am I kidding?

---

I was bored out of my mind, but I wasn't about to complain. I don't want to be a burden to my parents. I went to school everyday like a good child, did my homework , cooked my dinner, took a bath, watched the news, did household chores, and then with whatever free time I had left, I read books or found a hobby to occupy myself (like trying new recipes or paying the bills) and then I would go to bed and start it all over the next morning.

I was dying of boredom. I missed my parents, and I wished Hotaru wasn't away on vacation with her family, because I was about to implode with the monotony.

I was thankful when he showed up.

Thankful. Oh so very thankful.

But scared. So, so scared.

-----

It was a normal day in the life of Mikan Sakura—oh, didn't I mention it before? That's my name! I went to school and came home eight hours later, after my biology tutoring sessions. I was dead tired, since I'd been up late the night before, studying for a test I'd forgotten about. I'd gotten little sleep and I wasn't particularly hungry. I was afraid I was coming down with a cold, actually, so I was planning on going straight to sleep when I got home and forgoing dinner and homework altogether.

As I stepped through the door and whispered "I'm home!" to no one, as usually, I felt suddenly very grimy and sweaty. I slid off my shoes and went to my room to get a towel, the sudden urge to shower overcoming me. I got a pink towel from my closet, stripped down and wrapped it around myself. I padded barefoot down the hall to the bathroom, pulling the hairbands from my pigtails as I went, and moving them onto my wrist until I could find more suitable place for them. I could feel my eyelids dropping and I knew this was going to be a short—but blissful—shower. I placed my hand on the door handle and slid it open, stepping in.

Out of habit, I was humming. I always hum in the bathroom. It's just something I do. I opened my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was staring at a pair of feet that weren't mine.

I stopped, obviously shocked, scared, and afraid to look upward, not sure of just how much clothing the other person in the room was wearing. Of course, I was more afraid of who the other person in the bathroom with me was. A murderer? Thief? Rapist?

I swallowed and allowed my gaze to travel north. I'd determined that the person was definitely male, and I discovered a towel a little ways up, and gave myself permission to keep going.

Tan skin, well developed muscles, and a nice face, even when painted with shock. The boy in front of me couldn't have been older than I was, and he was just as surprised as I was. He clutched at the towel at his waist with the same death-like grip I used on the towel at my chest. At that moment, I was glad I'd picked out the towel that covered the most of me.


	2. Chapter 2

I backed up against the wall, though he hadn't advanced at all. I was still trying to find my courage to speak and I took the time to study him a little more, sizing him up.

I knew after half a second that I wouldn't be able to take him if he tried anything. He was a full six inches taller than I was, if not more, and I'd already made note of the muscles in his arms and chest. He looked like he was a fighter; trained in martial arts or something. My fear doubled.

I looked back to his face and saw that the shock was gone, replaced by indifference and what might have been a hint of annoyance.

What right did he have to be annoyed? This was MY bathroom! And if he hadn't been so…huge…I might have said something. But I was scared.

"Wha-wha-wha-wha…" I was stammering, and for good reason. The boy— whose eyes were red, I noticed at that moment—furrowed his brow and 'tch'ed at me.

"Wha?" He mocked. But I could hear in his voice that he was still surprised, and possibly scared of what I might do. The only thing I could do was call the cops, though, and that was if he let me get to the phone. "Well?"

"What are you doing in my house?!" I screeched. He winced at my volume.

"Would you keep it down?" He hissed urgently.

"No! Who are you?! What do you want?!" He stepped toward me, but I reacted too quickly and I was stumbling out into the hallway before he could even get close. "Get out!!" I ran for the phone, but he caught up to me before I could grip it, and I was knocked to the floor. My first instinct was to make sure my towel hadn't ridden up, but he was pinning my wrists with his hands.

"Shut up!" He hissed again, and moved my arms around so that one of his hands held my wrists tight and the other covered my mouth. Then he listened intently for something. Hearing nothing, he turned his attention back to me. Tears were beginning to leak from the corners of my eyes and I mumbled something against his hand.

"What?" He moved so that I could repeat my statement.

"Don't hurt me!" He looked at me incredulously.

"What the hell…? Just shut up and stay quiet." He got off of me and stood, dragging me to my feet by my hair and pulling me with him back into the bathroom. He tossed me against the far wall and turned to close the door, locking it after that and moving the clothing hamper in front of the door. He walked to the inner half of the bathroom—where the tub and showerheads were—and turned the water on for both of the shower spigots. Then he sat on the floor and stared at me.

The room filled with steam and the water was covered in water as it ran to the drain situated in the middle of the floor. I pressed my back against the wall, still clutching my now-soaked towel around myself to preserve any modesty I had left, ignoring the fact that the plush terrycloth was probably transparent by now. The man didn't seem to mind. Neither of us took our eyes off the other.

I opened my mouth to speak and he shushed me before the words came out.

"Please…" I said quietly. "What do you want with me?" I was crying again, but with all the water, he probably couldn't tell if those were tears or just water from the shower.

"Be quiet, little girl, I don't want anything to do with you. I just needed a place to hide." He looked to the floor for a moment, as if he regretted saying so much. "And if you promise not to call the police, I'll make sure you don't get hurt today. Understand?"

I nodded. What else could I do?

We were under the spray of the shower for half an hour. My head was starting to get a little light from all the steam, but I shook it away, determined to stay conscious and make sure nothing happened. I was happy to see that my eyes weren't the only ones getting hazy.

"Hey," I said after a few more minutes. "You should turn off the water. Otherwise you'll pass out." If it sounded like I cared about him, I want to clear up that I didn't. I was only looked out for my own well-being.

The boy glared at me for a second before nodding. He stood and reached for the spigot closest to him…

And fell flat on his face. I wanted to cheer, but kept quiet, waiting for any sign that he was still awake. When he didn't move for thirty seconds, I felt safe enough to bolt into the hallway and grab the phone. I dialed 911 and peeked back into the bathroom as I waited for someone to pick up on the other end.

He hadn't moved yet, but he was face down in water—something I'd failed to notice until right then. I was afraid to go near him, but it wasn't right to let him die either. I inched closer to turn him over, and I caught a glimpse of something long, deep and red on his back.

It was still bleeding.

"Oh, God," I breathed.

"_911, what is your emergency?"_

I should have asked for an ambulance, but then I'd have to explain who he was and why he was there. I didn't feel I could do that. Not without getting him in trouble. And he hadn't hurt me, really.

I babbled in something that sounded like French and hung up, tossing the phone back into the hallway. Gently, I grabbed the boy's shoulders and turned him to that his face wasn't in water, but I wasn't touching the wound on his back.

I cupped water in one hand and rinsed off the blood a little better, and I saw that the cut wasn't as bad as I'd first thought. With a little time and a first aid kit, I'd be able to take care of it just fine. I glanced from his cut to his face and back again.

"You better thank me when you wake up, ass." And with that, I began lugging him—gently, of course—out of my bathroom and toward the guest room next door


	3. Chapter 3

After I cleaned and dressed his wounds, I reached for the phone again. I had my finger on the buttons, ready to dial, but I was suddenly torn.

Looking at this boy on the bed—for that's where I'd moved him to when I cleaned his cut—I didn't know if I could bring myself to do it. He'd promised not to hurt me, after all. And though I had my doubts, I'd always been a very trusting person.

And how could I turn in someone who looked so childish asleep? He looked almost ill, like he hadn't eaten properly or taken care of himself for a little while.

I pulled my robe tighter around me. I'd pulled it on in my room on my way to get my first-aid kit, just to have something I didn't need to worry would fall off. My hair was still damp and kept falling in my eyes as I looked down at the sleeping form of the boy, contemplating.

I'd dug some of my father's old things from a box in his closet to dress the boy, and laid him out on the guest bed. I'd pulled up a chair and now I was acting like a nurse, taking care of someone I didn't know at all. The only difference was that I wasn't getting paid.

I had a sneaking suspicion that this boy was on the run from something, and not just because of the way he'd said he'd "need a place to hide." The wound on his back looked like it had come from a knife, and since his reflexes were incredible, either he'd been running when he'd received it, or he'd been outnumbered in a fight. I guessed he was part of a gang, or once was a part of one. Either he'd gotten in a fight with another gang or he'd tried to leave his.

He stirred a little and I felt his forehead. It was still a little warm from the steam, and I brought him a cool washcloth to bring the fever down before it turned into something serious. He calmed down again, and it seemed as though he was going to be asleep for a while, so I took my chance to go dress properly in jeans and a sweater, and found my slippers. I shuffled downstairs to the kitchen and started to cook.

He was going to be hungry. And who was I to starve an injured man?

I caught sight of my reflection in a window and scowled. "Don't give me that look," I growled. "I don't know what this is either." Call it compassion. I concentrated on my work.

I finished the simple meal of rice and chicken stir-fry and put some on a tray that I brought upstairs, along with a bottle of water. When I shouldered the door open, I found the boy just coming out of his stupor, and he looked like he had a headache—something I imagined was similar to a hangover.

"You're awake then?" he jumped when he heard my voice, as though he hadn't noticed me come in. "Don't try to get up. You took a nasty fall and you're head's going to hurt for a while. That and you'll open the cut on your back." He looked at me suddenly, wondering how…

"What, you think you could just walk around my house naked and I wouldn't notice a huge cut on your back? I'm not that stupid." I dished some of the food out onto a plate for him and brought it to his bedside. "I cooked you some dinner, and I brought some water. He eyed the food suspiciously and did not take it from my hands.

I sighed in exasperation. "Look, you're not going to get better unless you eat. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in a while anyway, and if you're worried that I did something to it, why would I bother? You were already unconscious; I could have killed you or called the cops then if I wanted to." Reluctantly, he took the food and started eating. Once he started, he sped up a little, probably realizing how hungry he was. I handed him the bottle of water and he drank half of it in one gulp. Once he'd finished his food, I served him another plateful, and watched as he ate that one as well.

He finished everything I'd made—minus the small bowl of rice I'd eaten myself—and a second bottle of water before he could be deemed finished. I was surprised to see just how much a hungry teenage boy could eat, probably because I only had the small amount that I ate to compare it to.

I took the dishes and washed them, then cleaned the kitchen before returning to the room. Every time I came in or out of the room, his eyes glued themselves to me and didn't leave until I was out of sight. It was strange, and I wanted to question him about it.

But first thing was first.

"Roll over."

"Why?" He growled out immediately. I was almost angry.

"Y'know, you should just listen. I saved your life. You almost drowned on the floor of my bathroom. Then you almost bled out and I fixed that too. Then I fed you and let you rest in my house. You should just do as I say without asking. But, I'll tell you anyway. I want to check the bandage on your back." He grumbled, but complied.

He'd bled through his gauze already, and I changed it and reapplied a salve. I taped it up nicely again and let him lean back on the pillows.

"You aren't leaving until that's healed."

"You have no say over what I do."

"I saved your life. It's pretty much mine now. So, yeah, I could say that I do have say over that."

"Why are you doing this?"

I hesitated before answering him. "I don't know." And I was honest. He'd broken into my house to hide and managed to threaten my life and then nearly die, abut here I was taking care of him. I had no explanation for him or me.

"I'll let you rest," I told him and got up to leave once more. "Don't go anywhere in the middle of the night, alright?" He nodded, though I had my doubts that he would listen. "I'm serious. Move around too much and you could bleed to death.

"What…" I stopped and turned in the doorway at the sound of his voice.

"Yes? Did you say something?"

"What… is your name?"

It was such an unexpected question. He hadn't talked much at all, and I'd figured he was too suspicious of me to want to ask, but as taken aback as I was, I smiled and answered.

"You may call me Sakura-san." And then I left. I still had cleaning to do. The bathroom was still a mess that wasn't going to fix itself, and then I had to do my homework and the laundry…

I was thankful for the weekend ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't until later that I realized I still hadn't asked for his name. But, since he was sleeping, I'd do it in the morning, and instead shuffled around the house cleaning and making preparations for the temporary guest.

Once I'd rearranged the fallen items (from the struggle) in the bathroom, I got out an extra towel and small bottles of shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a washcloth and placed them into a bath basket for him. I dried the pools of water still in the shower area and wiped the steam from the walls and ceiling.

Downstairs I cleaned the kitchen, since I'd made a mess while cooking, and straightened up the living area a bit. The kotetsu table was out, since it was the end of fall and going into winter. Despite the change in seasons, I knew that we wouldn't be getting snow until January. But still, the temperature would fluctuate into colder territory, at which point I would be glad for the extra warmth.

I dusted around the house as well. I'd been busy as of late and some of the housecleaning had been neglected as a result. But I planned to change that, and saw this as the perfect opportunity.

I found myself wondering why I felt the need to impress a thief. Or whatever he was. If he'd taken anything, I hadn't noticed it. I didn't even know where his original clothes were, which made me wonder if he had any to begin with.

Once I'd finished the housecleaning (and stopped myself from thinking about the boy naked), I sat down with my homework. I had a little trouble with the biology, but I still finished all my assignments within a few hours, and even then it was only half past nine at night. I usually watched the ten o'clock news before bed, and so I still had some time to kill.

I brought out the checkbook and started to pay the bills for this month. I was proud to see how much I'd saved up, since I'd been paying attention to the conservation commercials on television and turning off lights when I left rooms and using less water, and added the small amount to my total "savings" account. Currently, I was saving up for a dress to wear to the winter dance at school. Since it would be my first high school dance, I wanted to look gorgeous, and I was that much closer to my goal now.

Though I still had no clue what dress I was going to wear. It didn't matter. There was still another month and a half before the dance, so I had time.

The clock on the living room wall rang TEN and I turned on the news, scanning for anything about gang wars, fugitives, or prison breaks. Apart from a mother giving birth to octuplets, there was nothing worth noting, and I turned off the television, locked up the house, and went to bed.

-----

I woke up in the middle of the night to a sound that I didn't recognize. My eyes shot open wide and I sat up immediately, but was quiet, trying to see if I could hear it again, and pinpoint its location.

I rolled my eyes when I recognized footsteps, and threw back the covers. I jumped out of bed and pulled on my bathrobe before hurrying down the hall to the guest room and wrenching the door open.

Of course, I already knew what I was going to see, so the boy trying to climb out of the window was not a surprise to me.

But it was definitely an annoyance.

"Idiot!" I shouted over the sound of the wind. "You're gonna get yourself killed!" I raced across the room and grabbed the hem of the shirt he was wearing and pulled. In his weakened state, he couldn't pull against me hard enough and fell back from the windowsill. I braced myself to break his fall, and I had the wind knocked out of me as he crushed me. "Ow…" Slowly, he rolled off me and I stood.

"You…are stupid." He glared at me. I returned it. "You're going to waste all my efforts! I'm trying to keep you alive and you try and jump out the window on the second floor and you nearly die in the process!"

"I would've been fine…"

"Yeah. You are sooo strong, you couldn't even stop me from pulling you back. You would have died at this height."

"I've done worse," he said, shrugging. I did not fail to notice that he didn't apologize for nearly breaking all my ribs. I let it go this time, as it would interrupt the flow of my rant. "And why do you care, anyway?"

This was a good question, one that I had yet to answer for myself. I had no way of telling, and no way of deciding a reason why I cared for this perfect stranger (who broke into my home).

"I don't know! All I know is that I don't want my efforts to go to waste. If you want to waste someone's time and energy, make sure it's not mine, because I have a life I'd like to live." I glared at him fiercely before shutting the window and leaving, crawling back into bed and trying to fall asleep. But I was just too angry.

And in the morning, he was gone. He'd had the common sense to use the front door this time, rather than almost break his neck falling out of a window, for which I was grateful. But seeing the empty bedroom where only hours ago there had been a presence made me somewhat sad. I would miss the company, even if it wasn't any good.

But I shook my head clear. I'd had him in my home for such a short period of time I wasn't sure that I hadn't been dreaming. And I had errands to run, and no time to waste entertaining such frivolous fantasies.

I dressed and grabbed a purse. I'd eaten breakfast and watched TV in the morning, so by the time I left the house, it was going on one o'clock. This was the time of day when the sun's light was the warmest. Ideal shopping weather. I wore a light sundress since the September breeze was still a little warm with the remnants of summer.

I'd only made it down the street before my phone buzzed in my purse. I took a moment to fish it out and opened it without checking the caller id, pressing it to my ear as I continued my trek.

"Hello?"

"Mikan." I recognized that quiet, even voice anywhere.

"Hotaru!" I squealed into the phone. "You never call me, I always have to call you! Oh, and you hung up on me last time and I'm still mad at you for that."

"Stupid, don't yell in my ear like that. I called to tell you something."

"Sure, what is it?" Recently she'd been on vacation with her family, somewhere in the south of China. It'd been a month already and I was looking forward to her return in a little over a week.

"I'm going to stay here a little longer."

My heart broke that moment.

"What? Really? How come?" I stopped walking for a moment and plugged my other ear to better hear her response.

"I've been given a work opportunity. It's a small project that they believe I can help on, and I've been offered full funding and free room and board." I could see how she couldn't pass that up. It still made me very sad. "I'll be back in time for the second semester. I just wanted to let you know that I wouldn't be able to go to the theme park with you for Halloween."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're well," I said, faking a cheerful voice. With the bad reception, I was hoping Hotaru wouldn't hear my disappointment. "And that's great about your job. Am I allowed to ask what you're working on?"

"I'm sorry, Mikan, I've got to go." There was static. "I'll call again in a few days."

"Alright, goodbye…" We hung up at the same time. I sighed. "I guess I'll have to wait a little longer.

-----

I picked up my groceries at the store and then with the small amount of left over money, I bought a new shirt that I saw on sale. It was too cute to pass up. Armed with my new purchases, and a lemonade, I began my walk home, slightly scared to see that it was getting dark.

The walk was almost three miles; nothing in the day time, but at night the neighborhood became a bit more unsavory. My house was in a safe part, but out where the shopping center and grocery stores were, there was a history of gang activity and recently in the news, a serial rapist, though he'd been out of sight for almost a month now, so I figured he was gone. I'd slept in after last night's…happenings, so I'd gotten a late start in the day, and coming home late was unfortunately the result.

I remembered what my mother and Hotaru had always told me about walking home at night—always stay where the street lights are, and in a well-populated area where someone can hear me if I scream, and always have something on my person that I can use for self defense. In this case, my heavy grocery bags.

But I was still scared. Because sometimes people will just mind their own business instead of helping someone who's being harassed. And I was scared that that would happen to me as well.

But I walked slowly and paced myself, saving my energy in case I needed to run. I had my purse strap over my shoulder so it wouldn't get snatched, and my senses were alert. I was aware of everything around me.

Including footsteps that were not mine.


	5. Chapter 5

It was just one pair that I heard, other than my own. My heart jumped into my throat.

"Calm down," I told myself. "It could just be another person like you, trying to walk home." This did nothing to calm my nerves. "You can probably outrun them anyway…"

My hands started shaking and I tried to calm them, lest I appear as scared as I felt. I took deep breaths and kept my eyes forward, pretending I didn't hear the footsteps getting closer.

I rounded a corner, become a little more reckless with my walking, speeding up a little bit and making more noise. My follower did the same. Then I was sure.

I broke into a run. My arms swung wildly around as I tried to keep my balance and I was making random turns, getting myself completely lost. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find my way home.

Soon I ran out of breath and ducked into an alleyway to get my energy back while hiding behind a dumpster. I heard the person run past the alley entrance. I waited another minute before declaring myself safe, and then got my things and started back the way I had come.

But no sooner had I turned the corner, I ran into a man's chest.

I stumbled back and my neck snapped up to see who it was, though it was too dark to tell. A scream gurgled in my throat and I was about to let it loose when the person's hand clamped down on my mouth and muffled it.

"Calm down!" I quieted immediately. I recognized the voice, though I'd heard it only a handful of times. "If I move my hand will you promise to be quiet?" I nodded. His fingers moved away from my face and I gasped for air.

"It's you!"

"Shh!" He looked around wildly to see if we'd been overheard, and once convinced we were alone, the crimson eyed boy looked back at me. "You shouldn't walk alone at night. It's dangerous for a girl."

"You're one to talk! You were following me! You scared me to death!"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "I wasn't following you. I just saw you duck into this alleyway."

"But you had to be! Who else could it be?" He stayed silent meaningfully and my face paled. "Then I…Oh god…" My stomach churned and I pressed a hand to my mouth. It hadn't been the boy following me, it had been someone else…some unsavory character who probably would have done terrible things to me if I'd been caught and I'd led him away from the streets into dark alleys…

"Do you have to throw up?" He asked. I nodded and quickly darted back down the alley and behind the dumpster. I rinsed my mouth with the contents of my bottle of lemonade and then threw it out and rejoined the boy.

"I'm okay now." He only shrugged and started walking. I watched him go and he turned.

"Aren't you coming?"

Sure, I didn't know him, but he seemed like a nice enough boy. Then again, this might be repayment for last night. Either way, it was someone to walk me home. I hurried to his side, suddenly at ease.

"You never told me your name," I said quietly, desperate to break the unnerving silence around me. The boy didn't turn to look at me. I took this moment to study his face.

I hadn't been paying much attention before, but he was actually quite good-looking. His skin was tan and his hair was dark and disheveled. His irises were a deep crimson and he had the overall look and feel of a bad-boy. At this moment I also noticed he was no longer wearing the clothes I had lent him. I guessed he had a home around here.

"Was it necessary?"

"Well, it would have been nice. I told you mine, right?" He thought for a moment, I could see it in his expression.

"It would be better if you didn't know."

"And why is that?" I asked him.

"Because it makes it easier to forget me." The wind blew, ruffling his hair. He ran his hands through it and messed it up more. Surprisingly, it made him look even better.

Then his eyes met mine and I felt something strange. Something deep in my chest that I didn't understand. His gaze stopped my breath and it took me a moment to regain my composure.

"A-and what makes you think I'll be able to do that anyway?" Never did my eyes leave his.

"It's in your best interest." He spoke with a tone of finality, but I had no intention of forgetting him. I let the subject drop, though, and just enjoyed his comforting company on the walk home. I'd gotten really lost, I realized, as it took us fifteen minutes just to get to someplace I recognized.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"That's not what I meant…"

He nodded, giving me permission.

"How did…how did you get that wound on your back?" The moment the words left my lips, I almost regretted saying them. His shoulders tensed and he winced visibly from the pain on his back. His face smoothed over again and revealed nothing.

"I was in a fight."

All my previous suspicions were confirmed with those five words. I knew that he had somehow been involved with a gang, whether he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time or he had been officially initiated. And somehow this changed nothing.

"I see. Will the people come after you again?"

"…They might." I took this as a "Yeah, definitely."

We reached the bridge that crossed the canal. I finally knew where we were—and it was almost in safe territory. I sighed in relief, but the boy's arm shot out and stopped me just as I was about to run.

I turned and gave him a questioning look and he just stared straight ahead, listening closely. I was quiet for him, thinking that he was just scoping out the area. I was sure everything would be fine.

Suddenly he bent down and whispered harshly into my ear. "Don't be afraid, just play along. I'll get you out of here alive."

My breathing stopped again, and out from the shadows stepped a man.

I didn't recognize him, but I knew at once by his appearance that he was not to be trusted. He had multiple tattoos and a buzz cut, and his clothes were torn—and not at all in an artful way. Not to mention the menacing look on his face and the knife he twirled nonchalantly in his fingers.

"So, Natsume," he said. As he spoke, a few others came from the shadows and joined the first in blocking the bridge. "I see you brought us something new to play with."

I froze up when I realized that the "Natsume" the man spoke of was the boy at my side. I gave him a sideways glance and once again, his face showed no expression whatsoever. I didn't know if I should trust him or he would really…do what these men wanted.

"You led her right here, how nice. We didn't even have to herd her around, either."

"She ain't got no shape, though. Doesn't look like much fun," said another, causing everyone to laugh. The speaker had a bright blue Mohawk and multiple piercings. In fact, all of them had telltale signs of gang membership. And they all sported the same tattoo on the back of their left hand.

I hunched my shoulders and backed away. I was ready to drop my bags and run, but Natsume's arm around my shoulders stopped me. "Shut up. I didn't bring her here to be your toy. She's here for something else."

Oh god…

"Really? What then?"

Natsume had said to "play along" so instead of being still as he removed my purse from my shoulders, I struggled, pushing his hands away and shouting "Let go!" He eventually wrestled it away from me and threw it to the others. He kept one hand in a death-grip on my upper arm to stop me from going anywhere.

"Bitch is loaded." He stated shortly. The buzz-cut man came forward and rifled through my things, taking all the cash I had on me and my gold necklace.

"Not that!" All eyes turned to me. "That was my mother's, give it back!" Laughter filled the air. Natsume's grip tightened as if to tell me what I'd said was stupid. I already knew, but I couldn't let them have that. I'd promised to keep her necklace safe until she got back, I wouldn't let them have it!

"You got what you wanted, now let her go." Natsume's voice overpowered mine, though his volume didn't match mine.

"Got a soft spot for her, Natsume?" The man with the Mohawk—and sunglasses at night—came closer until he was no more than a few inches away from Natsume's face.

"Shut it. I'm not one of you guys, so I'm doing you a favor by not kicking your asses. Let her go, or I might have to."

"Oh, so you're one of our mortal enemies, yet you bring us a tasty piece. And then don't let us have it. How cruel, I'm hurt." He pulled a knife from his pocket and switched the blade out. "I might have to taste her a little."

He swung his knife at me and I screamed, but it only got close enough to neatly cut the top button of my dress off. I realized then that wearing a dress was a mistake. Natsume didn't let go of me as the other man moved closer and inspected me, running his fingers lightly over my collar bone and tilting my chin up to look at him. "I like the scared look in her eyes." He licked his lips and ran a hand up my thigh. I squirmed away. "Stop it!"

"Feh, you're too scrawny anyway." Get out of here before I change my mind." His smirk told me I was a very, very lucky girl. I looked to Natsume, but he didn't look back. Of course. He couldn't come with me. What kind of an image would that have? He pried his fingers off of me and I ran around the group and onto the bridge, ready to hit one of them with my groceries if they tried anything. They laughed as I ran, but didn't try anything.

My heart pounded and I kept running well after I was out of sight. I didn't stop until I was at my house, and then ripped the door open and slammed it behind me. I collapsed onto the floor and panted, wide-eyed, wondering what had become of Natsume, and feeling a traitor because I ran.


	6. Chapter 6

I busied myself as soon as I could stand. I put away the groceries, and cleaned the house. I checked the news for anything new on gangs, but there was nothing. I checked my answering machine and there was one message from a wrong number, and nothing from either of my parents. And when I ran out of things to do, I went to my front door and looked outside.

He wasn't there.

To say I was worried would have been an understatement. I was worried that Natsume was dead or injured beyond repair. I was afraid those men would follow me home, and I was afraid that even if they didn't, I would run into them again. They had my purse, which had my school id. They knew my name my grade, and where I went to school everyday. But most of all, I was afraid I would never see that boy again. His crimson eyes were forever burned into my memory, and now I had a name to match the face.

Natsume.

I was sweaty and dirty and had somehow gotten blood on me. It wasn't mine. I wanted a bath, but first I checked outside again. No one was there.

I climbed into the tub and refused to let myself cry. He was going to be okay. He was strong and must have had skill in fighting to be confident enough to try and jump out a window. He wouldn't have to fight those guys, and it didn't matter that he was hurt, because they would let him go. And those weren't tears, I lied to myself, that was just condensation on my face.

I washed up thoroughly and dried off. I got dressed in my pajamas and went outside again with wet hair.

"What do you even care?" I asked myself. "You saved his life and he saved yours. You should be happy and move on with your life. Do as he asked and forget about him."

But I didn't want to. And I couldn't.

I sat on the stoop in front of my house and waited well into the night. It had been close to eleven when I'd gotten home, after getting lost and unlost, and then that little run in. I was cold and shivering, and I was probably going to catch a cold, but I didn't care. I didn't even care that I had school the next day. I was going to wait.

Because if he got out alive, he'd come to my house. I knew he would.

-----

Hours went by and he hadn't shown yet. I was beginning to have doubts. Maybe he would go to his own home. Maybe he had a nice house that would be fine for him to stay in.

But then again if he was running from a gang, that probably wouldn't be the wisest place. Maybe he had a friend, or another gang member, or family that he could run to. Maybe he was hiding in the park.

Or maybe he was…

I couldn't think that word. The sun was starting to rise, and I planned to skip school and go back to where it had happened. I needed to find evidence that he was okay.

I waited a little while longer. All the other children on my street walked to school saying goodbye to their families and joining up with their friends and I just sat and watched, wondering if someone was alive. I was praying, pleading with God.

I waited until well after school had started before getting dressed and leaving the house. I didn't have a purse this time, so I looked through the junk drawer in my kitchen for the small bottle of pepper spray my father had bought me on my thirteenth birthday (the age most girls my age start dating) and pocketed it. I made sure I had money or valuables on, and made sure that I wore pants and a belt that was hard to undo. It might have been the middle of the day, but if I ran into those men again, it might not matter.

I locked my house and I walked. I walked with a purpose, but pretending I had none. I ignored the stares of the neighbors out in their gardens as they watched a high school girl walk down the street (casual dressed on a school day? I can only imagine the impressions they got of me). I didn't care what they thought.

I cut through the park to get to the bridge, and when I got there, it seemed like nothing had ever happened. There was no sign of anything there, so I had no clue if there was a fight. There was no sign I was there, making me question myself. Had it all been a dream then?

I retraced my steps from the previous night, heading back the way I'd come from while walking with Natsume (had I just dreamed that was his name, then?) and checking down alleyways and shady looking side streets. There was no one in the vicinity, but I did find something.

I found my own vomit.

As disgusting as that is, it proved that last night was real. I kept my distance, as the smell was foul, but I kept looking, backtracking until I found something that made ice run through my veins.

Blood on the ground. And next to it a scrap of fabric. I pressed my hand to my mouth as I hurried on, praying that it wasn't him.

-----

I searched until the sun was down, but I didn't find anything else. I was scared, though I'd known him for a total of one day. Sometimes I thought myself to be a little too compassionate.

"What would your mother say?" I asked myself. "Skipping school and wandering around a shady part of town looking for someone you don't even know."

Although I didn't know if he was dead or not, I couldn't keep looking forever. I'd lost a night of sleep and skipped a day of school just to see if he was alright, and ended up in the same place I'd started in. I had nothing. No information, not even a lead.

I prayed one last time and decided I should let him go.

"Goodbye, Natsume. I hope you're alright. And it was nice to know you for the short while that I did."

And I started the walk home. The sun was only just beginning to set, but I still hurried, making sure I was home long before the sun went down. I unlocked my front door disappointed and worried, but tried to wash those feelings away and resume my life. Two nights and I felt like everything in my life was turned upside down. I had to get back on track or my grades would suffer.

I brought the mail in and found a late bill that I needed to pay, which subtracted from my savings. I sighed but wrote the check, and sealed it in an envelope.

I had no energy to cook, nor was I hungry. All I wanted was a bath, and so I headed upstairs to the bathroom. I stripped down and turned on the water before I slipped in and scrubbed the sweat away, relaxing into the heat that coaxed the knots from my muscles.

It wasn't until later that I noticed the gold chain and a note on the bathroom windowsill.

_Here's your mother's necklace back._

I took that as the sign I needed.


	7. Chapter 7

"Sakura Mikan, you've been summoned to the headmaster's office as soon as possible."

I groaned as my homeroom teacher said those words, knowing that I was definitely in trouble of some sort for skipping school. I nodded and got up, heading to the hall quietly so as not to disturb any other classes. On the way I tried to think of a lie I could tell the headmaster, since I couldn't very well tell him that I was looking for the boy who broke into my house to make sure he wasn't dead. How would that sound? I'd be expelled for sure!

I pushed open the big, mahogany wooden door (it was so intimidating!) and stepped inside the office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

The head master was exactly what one imagines. Tall, rotund, balding. He always wears expensive suits with handkerchiefs tucked into the breast pocket and combs his hair over his balding patch. That day he was wearing a green suit and a pink shirt. He looked absolutely ridiculous, but I said nothing, and instead waited for him to say something.

"You were absent from school yesterday, correct, Sakura-san?" He asks slowly, and there is a tone to his voice that says "don't lie, because I know all." His eyebrow is raised as he waits for me to answer.

Because of my unique living conditions, I don't think he likes me. I have no parents he can suck up to, and therefore no one to ask for donations to the school during the fundraiser season. My mediocre grades probably put a damper in the school's averages, but he can't kick me out because then I'd have too many problems and my parents would sue.

"Yes," I reply. "I did not attend yesterday." Hey, it wasn't a lie.

"And might I ask why?"

This is the part where I got stuck. I had nothing, and as I grasped for words inside my head, I could feel time slipping away. Take too long to answer and you're lying. Answer too quickly, and you're lying. I had a few seconds left within the safe time frame and so I said the first thing I could think of.

"It was a personal matter."I said, trying to keep my face straight and not betray the lie.

"What kind of personal matter?"

"I'd rather not say." Because I didn't know. I knew I would get off scot-free if I told him it was for my mother's job, but then he would get in contact with her and my lie would unravel.

"I'm afraid I'll have to give you detention, then. You hadn't been excused from school, and your parents can't write you a note. And of course, I can't call them to verify because they aren't here."

Detention? But then my perfect record would be marred! And I would miss my biology tutoring and then I'd get home late and eat dinner late and get to bed late and sleep in late and miss school again and get another detention!

"It was research for my father's book." I managed to look convincing, and the headmaster looked surprised that I had a seemingly legitimate excuse. "I was doing research yesterday for my father. It took a little longer than I thought it would, otherwise I would have come in for a half day. My apologies." I gave him a slight bow, and excused myself before he could make me explain further. "I've already missed one day, I'd rather not miss another class. Please excuse me."

I walked calmly out of his office and then once the door was closed and I was out of sight, I started running, wanting to distance myself from that man.

I slid into biology class and into my seat without Jinno-sensei turning his head, but I knew he'd heard me. I silently took out my notebook and started copying what was on the board. Luckily, he didn't question me.

I made it through the rest of the day without problems, but once the final bell rang, I knew I had to get home. I didn't feel up to my biology tutoring, so I told Jinno-sensei that I felt ill and was going home to rest. He bought it, or at least appeared to.

So I got home an hour earlier than usual, and I had nothing to do. I decided to go to the library, and debated whether or not to change out of my uniform. I decided against it, because I'd never had any trouble when wearing it, and after last night I was still a little paranoid.

I tightened my tie and put my wallet in my pocket (since I still didn't have a purse). Hoping I looked like an unattractive nerd, I set off.

-----

The library was a very boring place, I decided. I tried to get some self-studying in, but it was very difficult when the very atmosphere had my eyelids drooping.

The people there were dull and not one of them was attractive, only feeding the ugly nerd stereotype. I felt the need to run away, as if their misfortune could rub off onto me somehow. I picked up my things and left, and on my way out, my cell phone rang. It was Hotaru again.

"Hotaru?" I asked when I picked up.

"Mikan. Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright. Why would you think otherwise?"

"I was just looking up the news for our town online." Her voice was somber, but relieved. "And there was a shooting not for from your house. The article I read said it had something to do with a gang."

"I didn't hear anything about this," I said, and I wasn't lying. I'd been a part of it, but I hadn't heard one whisper about it.

"I just want you to be careful."

"Aw, how sweet of you to care, Hotaru!"

"Idiot. Of course I care."

We babbled on for a few more minutes with the "how are yous" and I asked her some questions about her new job that she couldn't answer. I told her everything about what she was missing at home, trying to keep her up to date.

"And Yuu is dating Anna now. He asked her out last week." Yuu was Hotaru's best guy friend. And mine too, I supposed.

"That's so good to hear. He's liked her for a long time."

Other than that relationship development, nothing amazing had happened and I ran out of conversation topics not long after. It had been a very one-sided talk anyway, and I said my goodbyes to Hotaru. I slid my phone back into my pocket and headed back toward my street, halfway there remembering I needed something.

Rather than going to the grocery store—since what I needed was just a new notebook and some band-aids (I'd cut myself making food)—I opted for the convenience store just a few blocks from my house.

As I entered, I couldn't help but notice how dingy it was, and note that apart from my street, the entire neighborhood was looking more and more shady. I got what I needed and paid quickly, and then headed home, wanting to get off the streets.

I took a detour through the park instead, not wanting to miss the opportunity to see the autumn leaves in the sunset. The path was littered with gold and red and orange and I had a good time kicking them back up into the air and watching them dance around my ankles. It somehow brought a smile to my face to see such simple beauty.

I looked up from the leaves at my feet only to see a couple kissing on a park bench. I looked away, feeling a voyeur, only to see another couple by a tree, doing the same thing. I returned my gaze to my feet—the only safe place I could find—and turned around to walk home, wondering when I would find a boyfriend.

Tobita Yuu—the shyest boy in the world—had gotten a girlfriend before I'd gotten a boyfriend. This piece of information seriously depressed me. I sighed deeply as I walked into my house. I no longer had an appetite and instead sat to work on my homework. I wished I'd stayed after for biology.

Once I'd finished, I didn't want to watch the news and went straight to bed. This turned out to be a mistake, as that night was the night that the gang news was reported, including word of a possible impending "gang war."

Man, I wish I'd paid attention.


	8. Chapter 8

I ended up skipping school again the next day, through no fault of my own (I was just so tired). In the middle of the night I was woken by the sound of something tapping against my window.

Curious, I got up and looked down into the street. There was no one there. I could still hear the tapping noise, but it wasn't coming from my window now, but from the guest room. I pulled on my robe and ran down the hall. There was no one in the guest room or anywhere outside, either.

But my purse was.

I checked and everything was still inside, my other wallet, school id, and unfortunately not my money, but I was willing to let that go.

There was only one person who could have returned it, and he'd been here recently. I'd tried to forget him, but I couldn't. And this was my chance to find him again.

I pulled on my shoes hurriedly and ran outside, looking both ways for any sign of which way he'd gone. There was nothing to give me a lead, and so I picked one at random, heading to my left at a jog. If it hadn't been the middle of the night, I might have called to him, but I didn't want to have my neighbors call the cops on me. I stayed quiet, and pretended I didn't notice how my breath fogged in the air. I wished I had a coat.

The path I'd chosen led me past an old playground and into an unpopular warehouse district. Most of the buildings were unused, but there were still a few that acted as storage houses for companies nearby. But used or not, all of them had piles of boxes outside of them, adding more twists and turns to the path ahead of me. I wove in between them, praying I'd be able to find my way out of the maze.

I was about halfway down the row of warehouses when I realized I wasn't alone. I was by myself—no one was following me like last time—but I could hear other voices. At first, I was scared, knowing that Hotaru had just warned me of the gang activity, but I brushed that away, foolishly thinking that perhaps Natsume was going to be there. I never thought to weigh the chances of him being in whatever gang I came across.

I pulled my robe a little tighter around me for warmth, wishing I'd had the sense to get a jacket, and continued toward the voices. It wasn't long before it was made clear to me that the people I was approaching were not friendly.

"Who do you think you are?"

"You can't just leave the gang; you ought to know that by now."

"If you want to leave, you pay the price." Another person's muffled grunt of pain sounded, and everything was louder with the echo. I covered my mouth in horror. What kind of scene was I about to find? It sounded like something out of an outdated mafia movie.

I pressed myself against the wall before peeking around the corner into the alleyway nearest me.

"Say what you want, but you aren't manipulating me anymore."

I'd seen him first, but now I was sure. I had to restrain myself in order to keep from crying out.

Natsume.

He was on his hands and knees, panting. Someone kicked him in the stomach and he retched on the ground in front of him. No one had noticed me yet, but I took in the scene and my surroundings.

There were seven other men, not including Natsume, and they were dressed rather nicely, compared to the dirty state of the crimson-eyed boy's clothes. Natsume also looked the most beat-up, and for obvious reasons.

All of them had their backs to me, so I was in no immediate danger by looking down the alley, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to just stand by for much longer. I needed to hear the conversation, though, to see what I was up against. Hotaru always called me reckless, but I thought I was strategizing rather well.

"I'm not your pet."

"Ah, but you agreed to be when you took the initiation."

"That was stupid. If you're going to have an initiation into a gang, you should at least give one that proves I have balls."

"We know you do, Natsume, and that's why we're not letting you go. You're a little too valuable to the gang."

"Well, I'm leaving."

"We've already told you," Natsume grunted as he was kicked in the ribs again. "We can't let you do that."

The raven-haired boy got to his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "Try and stop me," he said, and his voice contained a dare that I knew the others would take. Seven against one. I guess I knew how he'd gotten that injury on his back.

Laughter started in one man—the leader—and spread to the other six. I felt panic welling up in my throat, and I had to blink back stinging tears of fear for this boy. He was practically signing his death wish.

The leader raised a hand and the others readied themselves. He let his hand fall, and they all started in.

I couldn't watch anymore. As stupid as it was, I propelled myself out from behind the wall and into the middle of the tiny alleyway. "Natsume!" I cried, rushing toward him. Everyone froze and His eyes met me, wide open in shock.

"Sakura-san?"

I stopped and stared at the little group, somewhat regretting jumping out. I had no fighting skill and Natsume was hurt, so if we were going to get out of this alive, we were going to have to run. At least I was good at that.

"What are you idiots doing?" I pushed my way past two that were in my way and crouched beside the boy. "He's hurt, you dumbasses! Tch. Of course you already know that, since you made him that way, did you?" I started an inspection.

"Where does it hurt worst? Can you stand?" He didn't answer me, just stared.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously. "How did you find me? And are you stupid?" He pushed my hands away. "Get out of here."

"No!" I pulled him to his feet. "I'm taking you to a hospital!"

"I won't go." He told me.

"Of course you will, otherwise you'll probably die of internal injuries." I was exaggerating of course, since I didn't know the severity of his wounds, but I was going to get him away from that place. "Now, come on, and—hey!"

I'd been pulled rudely away by greedy hands now clamped on my shoulders.

"Little girl," a voice said, irritated. "Who are you?"

"I'm not a little girl! And it's not your business who I am! All you need to know is that I'm leaving now and I'm taking him with me!" I pointed to the bruised boy for emphasis.

"You really should stay out of things that don't involve you. Especially when you know nothing about them." The tone in the voice got darker and I knew I was in deep trouble then. And Natsume's look of panic didn't help at all.

Before I knew it I was pinned against the cold brick wall of the alley and my robe was being torn open.

"Let go!" I kicked and punched wildly, ready to scratch someone's eyes out, but my arms were quickly and firmly restrained, leaving me unable to move.

"What a feisty kitty you are!" More laughter. "Well, we're going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget—so mind your own business and leave gang affairs to those who are involved. Don't meddle, little girl. If you'd kept your nose out of places it didn't belong, you might not be in this mess right now."

"Hey, Snake, just leave her. She's too skinny to be much fun."

More of this talk? Calling me shapeless and ugly? It didn't help my temper at all, but even when faced with the possibility of defilement and murder, I found myself looking to Natsume. "Get out of here, idiot, while you still have the chance!"

For a moment, it almost looked as though he was going to take my advice and bolt, and while I would have been happy that he was safe, I was still terrified of what was going to happen to me.

But if these jerks thought I wasn't going to put up a fight, they were all sadly mistaken.

I went feral, snarling and biting; wriggling to free myself of the hold I was in. I kicked out and hoped to hit something, but missed by a few inches. I clawed at the arms of the one who was holding me. Something was tugged from my hand and I only noticed then that I had brought my purse along.

"Let go!" I nailed one of the guys in the groin with a well-aimed kick and managed to get away. I dug through my purse for the pepper spray I had, and someone else grabbed me before I could pull it out.

"Hey, boss. What should we do with this one?" Everyone turned to the leader—dark hair and a stupid looking mask that I could only just now see with the moonlight shining on him.

"We'll take her and have some fun. Natsume seemed to know her; she could be dangerous to keep alive."

"Persona! Let her go!"

"No chance, Natsume. This is so. Much. Fun!" He laughed. With a snap of his fingers, whoever had grabbed me chopped me hard in my neck. My vision got blurry and my muscles relaxed on their own. I didn't let go of the pepper spray, though. They hadn't hit me in quite the right spot.

"Bastards!"

I was half-unconscious so I didn't see what happened next, but it sounded an awful lot like Natsume kicking ass. If I didn't have some stupid person on top of me, I might have been able to escape, but I was focusing all my strength on getting the mace out of my purse while the man was fiddling with the buttons on my top.

I finally popped the cap off and found the little button and sprayed, missing him at first—since my eyes were still readjusting—but then aiming a little better and getting him right in the eyes. He screamed and covered his face and I kicked him off me and crawled toward Natsume, trying to help. But I couldn't tell where he was, since it was dark and my vision was foggy still. I felt around blindly.

"Where are you?" I found three unconscious bodies, and that meant four down, if you included the one I took out. So Natusme was fighting the one he called "Persona" and someone else.

Suddenly, I was lifted from the ground to me feet, and I felt the cold metal of a blade against my neck. I froze. I smelled the foul breath of whoever was holding me and I heard another body hit the floor.

"Don't move." The voice was Persona. I couldn't see Natsume, but I knew he was there. Once more I shouted for him to run and save himself. "Well, Natsume? Aren't you going to save your girlfriend?"

"I'm not his girlfr—"

"I don't care." I could hear the shrug in his voice. My surprise was showing on my face, I'm certain. I'd come all this way to save him and he planned to just leave me there? What had he just been doing then, if not saving me? I heard retreating footsteps—or so I thought—and instantly my temper flared.

"Let. Go." I ordered. When my captor didn't comply, I did what any girl would have done; I kicked him in the groin with my heel and sprayed his face with pepper spray. He fell, unfortunately taking me down with him. I shouted and fell silent as I hit the ground.

"Little bitch," the man hissed. I was pinned under him, and now he was mad.

I was certain I was going to die. I let the can of pepper spray roll out of my hands as I prayed to God and said a mental goodbye to my friends and family. "You'll pay!"

Goodbye, Hotaru!

I braced myself for the hit that didn't come.

The weight was lifted off my body and I opened my eyes to see "Persona" flying away. Natsume was standing right above me. "Stupid girl," he spat, and turned to walk away. I immediately got up, grabbing my purse, and followed him.

We left the scene quickly, not wanting to be there when any of them woke up. I panted, still scared and somewhat proud of what I'd managed on my own.

Once clear of the warehouses, the raven-haired boy turned to go a different way. "Where are you going?" I asked. He looked at me, annoyance clear in his expression.

"To find somewhere to sleep. Thanks to you, I'm completely exhausted."

"I didn't start that fight," I reminded him. He clicked his teeth and started walking away. I chased after him. "Wait!" I grabbed onto his arm. His red eyes flashed back to me, and I could see he was getting angry. "You can stay at my house."

"Huh?"

"No, really. I want you to stay there, please. It's the least I can do." I pleaded, looking at him with the biggest puppy eyes I could manage after being hit and bruised up a bit.

"Why?" His answer seemed stupid to me. "I've already paid you back. We're even, you owe me nothing. I saved your life already, and you've saved mine before."

I clutched his sleeve a little tighter and looked away for a moment, slightly embarrassed—and scared, now that the shock of what had almost happened (again) set in. "You saved more than my life back there." He said nothing. "Please…"

I looked back at his eyes and after what seemed like an eternity, he yanked his arm from my grip and clicked his teeth again. "Fine." He grumbled under his breath, and waited for me to lead the way. I smiled triumphantly, glad that I could pay him back, even if it was only this much.


	9. Chapter 9

I led the way, though I'm sure Natsume still remembered how to get there. We walked in silence, though I really wanted so much to ask him questions. Like: Why were you in my house that night? What were you hiding from? What are those men to you?

But I knew that he wasn't in the mood for questions, considering the limp and the way I'd annoyed him earlier. I was also tired, feeling the effects of my excursion. I was starting to get sore and I knew I'd have a few bruises—hopefully in inconspicuous places. But all that had happened made me seriously think about taking a few days off of school.

When we reached my street, I turned and Natsume followed. The street lamps were on and burning dimly, barely casting a glow on the houses. I turned up the walk to my door and had to catch Natsume by the elbow to stop him from continuing down the street. He ripped his arm from my grip. I tried not to be offended. I'd offered him a safe place to stay, that didn't make us friends. I was being naïve.

I unlocked the front door and turned on the light to the living room. I made the boy sit in the living room while I went upstairs and retrieved my trusty first aid kit and the extra supplies from the upstairs closet. I ran down the stairs and almost fell into my seat beside the red-eyed boy. He looked at me condescendingly but said nothing.

"So," I said in an attempt to start a conversation. "Your name is Natsume, huh?" He nodded stiffly. "Natsume what?" I used an alcohol wipe and cleaned a cut on the back of his hand.

"Hyuuga," he said. I noticed that he was very tight-lipped. I pouted, wishing he'd open up to me a little more.

"Well, my first name's Mikan. So, I guess you can call me that from now on." He made no indication that he was going to. I put a bandage on his hand and moved up his arm a bit, treating the bruises there, but no broken skin. "I need you to take off your shirt."

"Want to see me naked already? Moving a little fast aren't we?" I could feel the blush creeping up my face as I answered.

"No! I just don't want you bleeding to death, especially not in my living room. Now remove it or I'll do it for you!" His shirt was tattered, dirty, and worn. I was considering getting scissors and just cutting it off him. That would avoid rubbing the wounds. But then he'd be half-naked in my house.

I got lucky, though. He clicked his teeth, but did as I asked. I started with the wound on his back, as it was the biggest and most potentially life-threatening. I cleaned it out and reapplied the salve before I put another layer of gauze on it, noting how much better it looked with proper treatment. I felt somewhat satisfied knowing it was my work.

"What are you smiling at so dumbly?" His voice surprised me, but his words didn't. I'd come to accept that the few times I'd heard him speak, he'd had nothing good to say, and I didn't expect him to in the near future.

"Not much," I mumbled before moving to the bruise on his shoulder and cut on his collarbone.

"Same here," he said, smirking. I glared.

"It's not nice to insult someone's looks. Especially not when she's saving your ass."

"Psh. All you did was get me into more trouble." He looked away, wincing slightly at the burn of the alcohol pads.

"The hell I did. I saved you from the beating of a lifetime. You were already pretty hurt when I got there. They hadn't even gotten started." I sighed in frustration as he moved and reopened a cut I'd just cleaned, making blood dribble down his arm. "Stop moving."

"I would have been fine if you hadn't jumped in there," he told me, trying to sound reassuring, though I didn't know if that was directed at me or himself. I didn't question further on the matter and instead decided to change the subject.

"So where do you live? I saw you had new clothes, so you must have a home around here somewhere, right?" Having finished with his torso, I moved on to his legs, having him remove his pants—on which he commented again, that pervert—and sit back.

"Nowhere."

Focused on my work, I didn't glance back up at him as I continued my interrogation. I frowned at one of his gashes. It would need stitching. I hoped I remembered how to. "How do you live nowhere? You're not homeless, are you?"

"That's what not having a home makes me, stupid."

"I'm not stupid." I replied shortly. "So you don't have family or anyone you can stay with? No friends or anything?"

"Not anymore." I threaded a needle. "What are you going to do with that?" He asked.

"What does it look like?" I didn't look at him as I poked the needle through his skin.

"Ow."

"Sorry, sorry. I'm out of local anesthetic." I tried to work quickly and thoroughly, not wanting to make a mistake, but also wanting to minimize his pain (and scars) and get it over with quickly. I tied off the stitches when I was finished, and washed the blood off the whole thing.

I moved to his face when I'd finished that, trying not to notice that he was good-looking when he wasn't covered in dried blood. I gently wiped him off, but some of it was staying. "Tch. You're going to need to take a bath even after this," I informed him. "Some of this blood just isn't going to come off." He nodded. "So, where do you sleep at night then, if you have no home? Who cooks your meals? Where do you go to school?"

"You're very nosy, aren't you?"

"I saved your life—"

"And I saved yours. You said so yourself, _you're_ in _my_ debt." He smirked again; obviously aware of the fact that he was right. I still wasn't giving up.

"Well, yes, you did save my decency back there," my choice of words made him frown again, "but seeing as I'm the one treating your wounds, _and_ letting you stay here free of charge, I think the least you could do is answer a few questions for me." I put on my sweetest smile. "So where do you sleep?"

"Ugh." I could tell without him saying it aloud that he thought I was a conniving bitch. I was almost flattered. Hotaru was rubbing off on me. "I slept in an apartment not far from those warehouses. It belonged to one of those guys. I crashed on his couch."

"Well I assume you can't go back there now."

He gave me a "no-duh" look and I ignored it, finishing with the last tiny bandage holding together the cut above his eyebrow. I'd decided, and now it was final.

"Done," I told him. "Well, then since you've got nowhere else to go, you can stay here."

He nodded and I took this as the only form of thanks I'd get. "I'll leave tomorrow."

"The hell you will. You're staying here, I've already said it. And when I said 'staying' I meant 'living.'" I used a mirror to take care of the few injuries I had and then packed the medical supplies up and stood. I looked down at his scantily-clad form—completely ignoring the fact that he was dressed only in dark red boxers (the color of which resembled blood)—and instead looked him dead in the face and gave him a stern, final look. "You can have the other bedroom. You stayed there before, so you know the one."

"Won't your parents disagree with your decision?" I noticed that he didn't say _he_ didn't want to. I took this as a good sign and smiled when he wasn't looking.

"They won't know about it. They're overseas and they will be for a while. They're here so little that they don't even have a permanent bedroom," I told him sadly. "The attic is their 'study' or whatever." I pulled a pair of old pajamas from the closet (more of my dad's clothes) and gave them to Natsume, looking away as he pulled them on, busying myself with fixing tea and a snack. "Holy shit, is it really that time?"

The kitchen wall clock read four in the morning. I could feel bags forming under my eyes and I knew I couldn't stay awake much longer. I wouldn't wake up in time for school, and I'd end up staying home again. I'd probably get in trouble. I decided to email my father and see if he could call the school and tell them I was ill. They wouldn't dare question him…

I gave the boy his tea and food and then switched on the television to the 24-hour news station, scanning the scrolling words across the bottom. I didn't expect anything to be there, and there wasn't.

"Well," I said yawning. "I think I'm going to go to bed. You know where your room is, and the bathroom. I've set up a bath basket for you if you need to wash up. I'll see you tomorrow. And," I whirled to look at him menacingly (though it wasn't as good as his looks) "DON'T try to sneak off this time."

He said nothing. I dragged my feet up the stairs and plopped into bed. I was asleep when my head hit the pillow, not even bothering with covers. My dreams were full of mysterious dark-haired boys with red eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

I've told you already that I didn't go to school that day. I didn't wake up until close to noon, so I saw no point in even bothering. I just lay still for a little while, trying to slowly wake myself without erasing my dream.

I'd dreamt that I'd gone out at night—how daring was I—and saved some ungrateful weirdo from getting killed and then let him stay at my house and—

Oh, wait. That was real.

Remembering he was there, I forced myself to roll out of bed and dress. I brushed my hair and put it up into my two usual pigtails, and then, satisfied with my appearance, I went down the hall to check on my new houseguest.

I knocked twice on the door and there was no reply. "Natsume?" I said softly, though loud enough for him to hear me. "Are you awake?" He didn't say anything. "I'm coming in…" I waited another second before I turned the handle and peeked in slowly.

The room was empty.

"Dammit," I swore under my breath. I turned and ran down the stairs and into the kitchen looking for my house keys. I was going to go and find that…that…

"Oi, Polka dots. What are you running around for?"

At the sound of his voice, I stopped dead in my tracks. I whirled to face him, surprised that he hadn't gone anywhere. But my eyes weren't deceiving me. There he was, seated at the kotetsu watching cartoons.

But polka dots? Why would he call me that? I told him my name is Mikan.

It hit me like a semi on the freeway.

"Pervert!" I shouted at him, throwing the newspaper at his head—it was the only thing within my reach—which he dodged easily.

"It's not my fault you're wearing childish underwear," he said evenly, as if unfazed by the whole matter.

"And like you're any better! You're watching cartoons!" I pointed an accusatory finger at him and he shrugged.

"There's nothing better on tv." He turned his attention back to the screen and I retreated to the kitchen, face still slightly red. I fixed myself something to eat, having no reason to go out anymore, since the boy in question was still in the house.

"You didn't answer my question." He said softly, suddenly behind me. I whirled and nearly dropped the knife in my hands—I was spreading peanut butter on bread—but his fingers nimbly caught it by the handle, preventing harm from coming to either of us. "Clumsy."

"I'm not clumsy, you startled me!" I placed a hand on my chest, breathing hard. My heartbeat was erratic and fast from the scare. I waited until I was calm again before taking the knife back and continuing the work on my sandwich.

"So?" His tone was expectant, conveying a message in the single syllable.

"S-so what?"

"Why were you running around? Were you in a hurry to get somewhere? Have a date maybe?" I felt his red gaze burning into the back of my head and turned to look. He wanted answers, and I could see that he was used to getting what he wanted.

"I was not in a hurry to get anywhere. And for your information, I don't even have a boyfriend. Not that it's your business. So you can rule out a date from your list of possibilities. Besides, does it matter? I don't have a reason to go anywhere anymore."

He raised an eyebrow as if to say 'anymore?'

"Fine. For your information…I was going to look for you. You weren't in your room, so I thought…I thought you'd tried to run off again."

He smirked in that condescending way he had. "Aw. Worried? How sweet, Polka dots, I didn't know you cared." He backed away, still grinning in that perverted way.

"Of course I care." I kept my gaze level as I looked at him, meeting his eyes, making him see I was serious. "I mean, yes, I just met you the other day, and the circumstances of our meeting weren't exactly very favorable," I blushed at the memory, making him smirk again, "but you're probably the closest thing I have to a friend right now. My family is gone, my best friend won't be coming back for a month, so who else do I have?" His smile fell and he looked somber for a moment before turning back toward the television and pretending to watch the cartoons.

"Idiot," he said under his breath.

"Is it stupid to dislike being alone? I think I've been alone for long enough." I smiled brightly when he looked at me, and he rolled his eyes and looked away again, leaning on his elbow, which he'd propped on the table.

When I finished making my food, I grabbed a bag of chips and sat next to him at the table. I popped the bag open and offered Natsume some. He accepted and we ate in silence, our eyes transfixed to the childrens' program in front of us.

-----

A few hours of silence passed before either of us spoke again. Of course, I was the one to start the conversation.

"So, Natsume, where do you go to school?" The kids' shows were over and the soap operas were starting to play. I left them on for background noise, but neither of us was paying attention to the overdone, clichéd plotline.

His eyes looked to me again, his expression telling me that he didn't want to get into his personal life. "Are you going to interrogate me?"

"No," I assured him. "I'm just curious. I'd like to know more about you. So far all I know is that you were once in a gang. But…can you tell me more about your life?"

"I'd rather not." He was cold. I was getting goose bumps from his voice alone. But I decided not to press him. He'd tell me when he was ready.

"Alright then." I got up and took care of the empty bag of chips and my plate, then rejoined Natsume at the table. "It's only two o'clock," I said. "I'm not going to school, since it ends in an hour. What do you want to do?" I cocked my head to one side as I waited for his answer. I didn't expect him to want to do anything. I was prepared to just sit around the house and do nothing until dinnertime.

He simply shrugged. "Don't care."

"Okay." I leaned back and stretched my legs out under the table. My neck rolled and I stared up at the ceiling as I thought. "Want to…go grocery shopping with me?" I said the first thing that came to mind, but it was plausible—we were nearly out of food as I hadn't been in a few days and there were now two people living under that roof.

He didn't say no, but got up and went to get changed—I'd lent him a few more of my father's things, which fit him surprisingly well—and then rejoined me in the front hall as I pulled on my shoes. He did the same and within minutes, we were off.

It was getting chilly with autumn weather, and I was glad for my jacket, but regretting the decision to wear a skirt. For multiple reasons, I realized while casting a wary glance at the boy next to me. He wasn't paying any attention whatsoever, thank goodness.

I took in his appearance and noticed how out-of-place he looked in my father's things. I'd have to get him some of his own. "We can go shopping for some clothes, too, if you'd like." Out of the corner of my eye I saw him nod. I smiled.

"Y'know, Natsume, this might sound corny, but I see this as the beginning of a wonderful friendship."

He snorted. "What?"

I giggled. "Nothing. I was just being sentimental." And committing this moment to memory. Because as of now, you and I are friends.


	11. Chapter 11

So, because I skipped school, I had detention the next day, as well as biology tutoring. And clean-up duty on top of it all. I was informed as soon as I got to school the next morning.

I sighed. As if class wasn't enough. And how was I supposed to tell Natsume that I'd be late. I'd have to call him on the home phone during lunch.

My "friends" were all very worried about me. I don't know why I put the word in quotations. They're very good people—Yuu and Nonoka and Anna and Koko and even sometimes Sumire—but I never felt as close to them as Hotaru. They were never the ones I told everything to, never the ones I exchanged secret with or told who I liked. Actually, I'd never had a true interest in any of the boys in my school. So not even Hotaru heard who I liked.

Miserable and tired, I sat at my desk at school and planted my forehead on it, trying not to fall asleep while I waited for the next teacher to come in. It was going to be one hell of a day just to last through the normal classes.

Narumi pranced through the door happily and took his place behind the podium. "Good morning students!" He said cheerily. I wanted to vomit. Narumi was my favorite teachers—much nicer than Jinno—but he was almost always too happy and never serious when the situation called for it. Sometimes this was a good thing, but more often than not it was just annoying.

I tuned him out after his greeting and didn't pay attention during his lecture. My hand automatically took notes from the board in the front of the classroom, but I didn't listen to Narumi's dictation at all. I was a little more preoccupied with the force that was closing my eyelids.

He assigned us homework half an hour later and then left, just in time for the next teacher to walk in.

The rest of the day continued like this. The only time I actually paid attention was when something about homework or a test was mentioned or when I heard my name. Twice I was called to the board to answer a math equation. I only got it right once, and I guessed. Luck wasn't entirely on my side.

The three morning classes passed and then it was lunchtime. We were free to eat wherever, having no designated cafeteria, and normally I ate on the roof. However it was more important that I call home.

I headed down to the front office and picked up the phone, eyeing the secretary and hoping that if I talked quietly she wouldn't be able to hear me. The clacking of her fingernails on the keyboard in front of her was rather loud anyway.

I dialed my home number and Natsume didn't pick up. I didn't expect him to. He was either sleeping or he thought it rude to answer other peoples' phones. Either way, I had an answering machine for this very reason.

"Hi, Natsume, it's Mikan. Sorry for calling like this and just so you know you don't have to worry about answering the phone. I just wanted to let you know that I won't be home until late. I've got cleanup duty and tutoring and then detention because I missed school yesterday without a 'valid reason' or whatever. So if you get hungry you can fix yourself something to eat and you don't have to wait for me. I'll see you later tonight. Bye." I placed the receiver back on the hook and then left without looking back. I headed up to the roof with my lunchbox and enjoyed the small meal I'd made.

The bell rang, giving everyone a five minute warning before the next class started and I begrudgingly put my things away and hurried back to class. I could very easily have stayed up there, but I'd earn myself another detention. If possible, I wanted to avoid that.

To my surprise, when I got back in my seat, there was a note taped to the underside of my desk. It was just a simple sheet of notebook paper ripped out of a spiral notebook and folded in half. The writing was messy, as if hastily scribbled.

_Meet me behind the school at 6 tonight._

I didn't know who it was, but the timing was good. At 6 I'd just be getting out of detention. The rest of the day flew by since I had something to look forward to—a mysterious not under my desk. Could it be a love confession?

I'd never had one of those, but I remember Hotaru's first. She denied him before he could finish his sentence. Hotaru had had many confessions over the years. She was very pretty, more of a classical beauty than me. She was petite with a good shape, sought after intelligence, and—aside from her cold attitude—she was the perfect woman.

I'd always come off as the "cute sidekick" kind of girl, and had never gotten a confession. Anyone who knew me knew that I was always with Hotaru, and if you saw the two of us next to each other, your eye would most definitely be drawn to her.

I didn't know what to do. How does one turn a boy down? Would it be someone I knew or someone from another class?

At that moment the teacher decided to enter, so I stuffed the note into the back of my textbook and pretended to pay attention.

The clock moved slowly for the rest of the day.

-----

"Thank you Jin-jin!" I cried as I ran from the room. He scowled at his nickname, but he'd long since given up on correcting me, as I called him that out of habit now.

I'd just gotten out of tutoring and it was nearing six o'clock. I had fifteen minutes with which to pack my things and then try to make myself presentable. All my textbooks and my notebook and calculator were shoved hastily into my bag and I rushed off to the bathroom to brush my hair and run my finger over my teeth. I popped a breath mint and pinched my cheeks to add natural coloring before deeming myself fit and heading out.

I wasn't sure where exactly they were going to meet me. There were many popular meeting places around the back of the school including the very romantic sakura tree. However, I decided—since I wasn't going to accept him—I'd leave that out and instead I waited by the wall.

A few minute passed before he showed up. I smiled as the boy walked toward me.

"Um… did you leave me that note?" I asked sweetly. The boy—whose face I couldn't clearly see yet—just nodded. I thought he was just shy.

"I did put that under your desk. I didn't think…"

Didn't think I'd show? Didn't think I'd notice the note? What?

"I didn't think…" his shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? No…that was…laughter. "Didn't think you'd fall for it!"

More laughter joined his and three other boys came around the corner. My shoulders drooped in disappointment. I should have known better.

"Alright guys," I said, defeated. "You've had your laugh. I'm going to go now."

"Hold on now," one said. I didn't see which one it was. I'd already started to walk away, but he reached out and grabbed my wrist, preventing me from walking any further. "We're not finished yet. This is just too much fun."

"Sakura-san, why did you even bother showing up?" the laughter started up again. "I mean, you _do_ realize you're the plainest girl at school, right?"

Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know that. Thank you ever-so-much for rubbing that in.

I said nothing.

"I mean, who'd fall for you? Why even bother hoping? You should have known that this was a trick."

"Yeah. I mean, are you that dumb?"

"You're not even good enough to be a last resort."

That one actually hurt.

Yes, I wasn't the prettiest, or the smartest, but to say that _no one_ would date me, even if they were desperate was going a little too far.

"Are you done? You've had your laughs now let me go!" I yanked my arm from the one boy's grip only to fall into the arms of another. He pressed me against the wall, despite the way I struggled, and moved his face close to mine.

"We're tired of you being such an eyesore." His breath was rancid, like he hadn't brushed for days. I turned my head away but he only grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "If you're not going to be eye candy, you'd better put out, or you'll never get a date."

"Enough!" I don't know what came over me, but my hand had plans of its own. The one that wasn't being restrained was holding my bag. I dropped it real fast and smacked that boy across the face. I was done. They hurt me. I wasn't taking any more of it.

I was proud to note that there were no tears in my eyes.

The boy released my hand in shock and I grabbed my things quickly and prepared to run.

"I might not be pretty or smart, and I might not be the object of anyone's affection, but that doesn't mean you can treat me like this! I'm still a person!"

"That bitch slapped me!" It seemed as though they hadn't heard me at all. "Cut her!"

What?

One of the boys pulled a knife from their pocket. It was a switch blade. They pushed a button and the blade popped out, ready to bite into my flesh and drink my blood. I backed up, only to hit the wall, having forgotten it was there.

"Dammit."

I turned and started to run, but one of them caught my wrist just like the last time, and I felt the cool metal on the tender skin of my inner wrist.

"Let go!" I shouted, but they weren't going to listen. I didn't expect them to, either.

"Let this be a lesson to you. Ugly girls can't just go around hitting anyone they like." He applied pressure.

I didn't cry out. I winced a little, but that was all. The blood dripped down my arm fast—too fast. I don't think they meant to cut that deep.

"Hey, man…I think you overdid it…"

They were scared by the sight as well. I stared at it, lost and mesmerized by my life ebbing out of my skin. "Ow," I mouthed.

"Let's get out of here!" One of them slapped me across my face for good measure. "You better not say a word!"

Feeling spent and tired, pain itching through my every fiber, I turned and ran home.

-----

I ran. I didn't stop for traffic or pedestrians. I wanted to go home. I wanted a bath. I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. More than anything I needed a hug from Hotaru or my mother. I needed someone to tell me it was going to be alright, that I was beautiful.

I was colder than usual since I was losing blood, but I didn't care. I wasn't getting lightheaded, so I took that as a good sign and just kept running. I ran past the bridge, past the convenient store, turned onto my street and burst through my door.

I didn't say hello like I usually did. I ran through the foyer without taking off my shoes. I simply dropped my bag and kept going, heading straight to my bedroom. I heard Natsume ask "What's wrong?" But I ignored him and slammed the door shut behind me.

I slumped against it and stared at my arm again, marveling at the redness. It was throbbing now.

After a moment I got up and moved to my bed. Everything was starting to sink in now, and there was a hotness in my eyes. I reached up to touch them. Tears.

There was a knock at the door. I managed to choke out "go away" around the sobs, but I knew he wouldn't.

The door opened and he peeked inside. "What's the matter?" I knew he didn't care. He was acting like a good friend. He was pretending he cared. I cradled my arm against my chest so he wouldn't see it.

"Nothing," I sniffled. I heard the door shut and he walked over to my side. He took in the sight before him and sucked in air quickly. "Go away…"

He knelt beside my bed and took my arm in his hands. He was surprisingly gentle. "Where's your first air kit?"

I nodded toward my closet and he retrieved it. He soaked up the blood and applied pressure to stop the bleeding. Then he bound it up and took care of the blood-soaked rags.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"What do you care?"

He didn't reply to that. "Alright then." He stood and walked from the room, pausing in the door for a few seconds. "I'll be going out for a while," was all he said. And then he was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

She was annoying, I had to admit. She was persistent, loud, obnoxious and stubborn. But she was always happy and while I hated to admit it, it made me feel a little lighter too.

But that was a stupid thing to think. I'd only just met her. Plus, with my past, it was best not to get involved with anyone. I didn't have much of a future in store anyway. If I was lucky, I could get my revenge on those bastards in that stupid gang, but I didn't expect to live. And if by some miracle I did manage to beat them and keep my life, then I had no clue what I was going to do from there.

It was best not to give myself a reason to _want_ to live. Not to give her a reason to want me to live. I had a goal and I promised I wouldn't let myself get attached to anyone or anything.

But damn it all, I didn't plan on this.

I didn't understand why it hurt me so damn much when she ran in the house after school that day, and didn't say hello. It was something she always did, no matter if she'd been out all day or only for a moment to get the mail. She had that kind of friendliness that infected everyone and everything in the vicinity.

Tch.

But that day she hadn't said a word, and I'd known immediately that something was wrong. She kicked her shoes off and dropped her bag on her way to her room and she stomped up the stairs in only her socks before slamming the door. I vaguely remember blurting out "what's wrong?" but of course she didn't answer me. I didn't expect her to.

There were multiple possibilities as to what had happened, and I narrowed it down right away.

It had to have something to do with school, obviously, since that was where she had been all day. My immediate conclusion was that she had been rejected by a boy she'd confessed to, but somehow that didn't seem like the whole truth. Would that cause her to run in here like she was being chased by a murderer?

Out of instinct, I checked out the window after thinking this. No one was there, nor were there any signs of anything unusual. I decided to check back by the door where her shoes were, and follow her tracks. Her shoes were the normal ones she wore—plain and black—and they were tossed unceremoniously in the corner of the front hall. I walked slowly down toward the stairs, keeping my eyes trained on the ground until I spotted it.

Blood.

I ran up the stairs and arrived at her door in record time. I could hear her crying behind it and my chest tightened. I shook my head to clear the feeling. I knocked to get her attention rather than just barge in. I heard her reply with a "go away," choked out like she was crying and trying to hide it. I ignored that and peeked inside.

She was sitting on her bed. Her hair had come half undone, sticking up at weird angles with the hairbands loose down around her ears. Her clothes were wrinkled and one sleeve was torn at the shoulder.

"What's the matter?" I asked quietly. I hated the way my voice sounded so emotionless.

"Nothing," she said back, her voice still watery from crying. He was hiding one arm from me, holding it against her chest. I knew that was something I needed to pay attention to, and so I walked around to the other side of her bed and looked. I did the closest thing I'd ever done to a gasp and sucked in air through my teeth in a sympathetic noise.

Her arm was covered in blood. There was a knife wound—I knew them when I saw them—running from her inner wrist almost all the way up to her elbow. It looked painful and I only then saw how pale she was. There were purple bags forming under her eyes and she was red from crying. She looked a right mess, but I didn't want to mention this to her. Not only was it unnecessary, but rude.

"Go away," she ordered again, and I could hear the restraint she had in her voice, trying not to cry. I knelt in front of her and gently moved her arm where I could get a better look.

The cut wasn't too deep, but it was long, and she shouldn't have been able to run all this way without fainting. I used my thumb to smooth the blood away so I could find where it ended and began. "Where's your first aid kit?"

She directed me to the closet and I got it down off the top shelf and went through its contents. All I needed was the gauze and bandages, but I grabbed the alcohol wipes as well and started to gently clean the wound.

New tears started at the stinging of the alcohol, but I couldn't blame her. It hurt, I knew from experience. I just wasn't about to cry about it.

I bound her arm up tightly and then gathered up the bloody scraps. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"What do you care?" Her voice was harsh and hurt, and cold and sad and lonely. It stung me that she thought I wouldn't care about something like this but I decided not to correct her opinion of me. It was better that way.

"Alright then." I left here there where she was—safe at home—and left. I'd already made up my mind.

She'd done me the courtesy of letting me live in her home. I was going to return the favor by keeping her clumsy, danger-magnet ass safe.

-----

It didn't take me very long at all to find her school. It was the biggest—and the closest—in the area, and I saw a few students staying after that wore the same uniform that she always wore.

I had no time left to reconsider. It was a decision I'd made only a few moments ago, but I was dead serious about it. I hated school. But this was necessary. It would leave a bad taste in my mouth to let shit keep happening to her.

I jammed my hands into my pockets and kept walking. It was past seven, but from what I remembered from my own schooling days (I'd dropped out to join the gang), the secretary or someone from admissions would still be there. And I just needed to talk to them.

I knew I could pass a placement test, so I wasn't worried. The only thing I saw standing in my way was if the person I spoke to decided it was too late to try and transfer. If it was a woman, I could work my charms. But if it was a guy, I was screwed. Not that I'd let something so stupid stand in my way.

I walked straight through the front door and looked around, deciding to take the left hallway, since it looked like it had fewer classrooms and more offices. I strolled like I owned the place until I found the right one. Then I thought it best to make a good impression and I buttoned the front of my shirt up to the neck and tried—and failed—to smooth back my hair a little. I couldn't do anything about my facial expression. Not that I wanted to.

There was a woman at a desk and she was typing something into a computer. I cleared my throat to grab her attention and when she saw me, she immediately smiled and pushed aside her work. "Yes dear? Can I help you with something?"

"I think you can, miss." I said, as politely as I could. "I'd like to see about enrolling here."

-----

A little over an hour later, after a little schmoozing and a placement test, I was leaving the school building with a new school bag, ten new uniforms, and a folder full of my class schedule, a map of the school and all the material I'd need to purchase to be ready for school next Monday.

It was now well after dark and the street lights were on, leading me back to Mikan Sakura's house. I wasn't afraid of walking home alone in the dark, not like her. Even though I had a little more to worry about.

Ha. Haha.

No. I didn't really laugh. Not my style.

Even though I could take care of myself, I still peeked down every alleyway and looked around every corner before I turned, somewhat paranoid that they would know where I was. They couldn't possibly. Not unless they followed that Sakura girl home. And even if they'd done that, they wouldn't know I was there unless they'd heard her offer me the extra room.

But if they knew where she was, they might try to use her to get to me.

This was exactly the kind of thing I was afraid of. I knew she'd somehow get herself in trouble like that, and that's why I had to stay by her side.

Stupid girl. Waste of my time. Just in the way, a liability. She'd be the one to get me killed. I probably should hate her.

So why did I run home to make sure she was safe?

-----

Mikan was fine, just a little tired-looking. She was working on her homework when I stepped through the door. She didn't look my way as I walked upstairs and put my things on my bed. I went back to check on her arm and looked into the kitchen as I passed it. There were no used dishes, so I guessed she hadn't eaten. I headed back to the living room.

"Hey," I greeted. She nodded in acknowledgement. "How's your arm?" She shrugged. "Have you eaten?" She shook her head. I sighed at her vague, unhelpful, and unhealthy answers and just sat beside her. "Let me see," I ordered.

Knowing that I would make her if she didn't comply, she slowly put out her arm and I gently pushed her sleeve up. I was displeased to find that she'd bled through the bandages, but I said nothing for fear of worrying her. I just got up and brought the first aid kit back to replace the gauze. When I peeled it back, I saw that the wound had stopped bleeding. I cleaned it again, bandaged it, and then got up to make food.

"It's not good to skip a meal when you've got a wound like that." I would know. I rifled through the fridge and pulled out the ingredients for something simple that I could make. It was just a salad and some tea, but it would be enough. That girl didn't eat much anyway.

It was ready in a few minutes and I served it at the table. She was staring at the blank paper in front of her which I roughly pushed aside and replaced with food. "Eat," I ordered. She picked up her fork and obeyed, but stopped after a few bites. Perhaps she was nauseous from the blood.

It was about then that I was starting to get worried that whoever had hurt her had done it in more than one way.

"Mikan," I said, grabbing her attention. She turned toward me, her eyes blank and full of sadness. "Did someone…hurt you? I don't mean your arm." She looked away and I almost took that as her answer. An unexplained feeling of anger bubbled up my throat and I almost growled.

"No." Her voice cut through my murderous thoughts. "They didn't touch me. Not like that. They don't want me, no one does. Not like that." She pushed her food away and started to get up from the table, her eyes wet, glistening with tears.

I didn't understand it all yet. Why did she think that? Who had told her no one would want her? Was it someone else's words or her own idea? Was it because of her parents being away all the time? But if it wasn't her, then who had told her that?

I grabbed her arm as she stood and pulled her back down into her chair. I tried to avoid her cut so I wouldn't hurt her, but I wasn't sure, since she winced when I touched her. "What do you mean? Who told you that?" She was quiet, her face hidden by her hair.

"It doesn't matter, it's all true. Who cares who said it?" Her voice was thick with tears. The next thing I knew, her arms were around my neck and her face was buried in my chest as she cried her heart out, sobbing my name into my shirt.

This wasn't the kind of thing I was used to dealing with. What should I do about a girl using my shirt as a handkerchief?

Awkwardly, I put my hand on her back and patted in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. "Don't cry, ugly," I said quietly. "It's okay."

To my dismay, the nickname I gave her only seemed to make her cry harder.

God, Natsume, you're an idiot.


	13. Chapter 13

When I woke up, I was in my bed. I was lying on my side, facing the window. It was morning, and the sun shone through my window and onto my face. It was warm and comforting. I loved the feel of sunshine on my face.

My entire body was numb when I remained still. I sort of liked the feeling, though I knew I had school (it was finally Friday!) and made myself get up. I regretted it almost immediately.

There was a shooting pain through my left arm and I suddenly felt dizzy. I fell back onto my pillow and looked at the source of my pain, only to find thick bandages covering my forearm.

_What happened?_

I couldn't remember anything right away, so I strained my mind, and only gave myself a headache in the process.

Well, no matter what had happened, it looked as though it had been bandaged well and it should have been fine for me to get up and proceed as normal. But as soon as I stood, the world beneath me began to ripple and I was pitching forward again without warning.

I may have cried out. I must have, since Natsume threw the door open and saw me lying there on the floor probably looking pathetic. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and probably teary.

"What's going on?" I whimpered. He sighed and leaned down to help me up, scooping me under my arms and lifting me back onto my feet. I wobbled the second he let go, so he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down onto the bed.

"You don't remember?" I squinted, deep in thought. It wasn't that I didn't remember, my memory was just hazy. Probably with fatigue or some traumatic event. I sighed. If it was that traumatic, I should remember it clearly, right?

"I remember crying." I touched the tear tracks on my cheeks. "A lot. And I remember getting this cut… after school. Around back…" His grip tightened on my shoulders and he looked me dead in the eye.

"Do you remember who it was?" I was stunned by the tone of his voice. I couldn't identify the emotion I heard there, as it was one I hadn't heard in a long while, and never from this boy in front of me. I remembered. But I wasn't going to tell him. Something told me he would be violent. That was absolutely the last thing I wanted.

I shook my head mutely, still slightly dizzy and tired. I heard him click his teeth and let go of my arm. Without his support I fell back onto my pillows.

"Why am I so tired?" I asked groggily, my words not stringing together smoothly.

"It's probably from blood loss. Stay here."

Where else was I going to go? But I nodded and watched his back as he left.

_Worthless, stupid girl._

I ran a hand over my face. I remembered it all. It was coming back, it just took a moment. I sighed and rolled onto my side. That jerk boy—I didn't even know his name—was probably right. Who could ever love me.

"Ugh," I groaned and buried myself under covers, curling up and locking my arms around my knees. "I just want to diiiiiieeee."

The pain was enough, but on top of that, mental anguish? My life was becoming more and more miserable.

"Oi, Polka dots."

Somehow, I still managed to work up the energy to throw the covers back over my head and glare at Natsume as he walked back into the room, carrying a dish in one hand.

"The name's Mikan! Address me as such or I won't answer you." I stuck my tongue out childishly and then covered myself up again.

"Polka dots, you need to eat. Stop playing around and get out here."

"Sorry! No one here by that name!"

"Polka…"

"…"

"Ichigo-kara…"

I blushed furiously under the covers and then realized I was in my pajamas. Of course he was the one to change me, so of course he saw my panties.

"Pervert…" I dug myself deeper and refused to move.

"Hey…I'm serious."

"So am I."

"You're going to pass out again." He waited. "I won't save you this time." He waited. "You'll die."

When I didn't say anything, he sighed. "Mikan…"

That was enough for me. I threw back my covers with a happy smile ear-to-ear and grabbed the bowl from his hands, eating gratefully, only then realizing just how hungry I was. He watched me eat like he thought I would try to throw it back up.

"You eat too fast and you're going to be sick," he advised.

"I think this is the most I've ever heard you talk," I noted dully, not paying attention to what I was saying. "You should talk more often, Natsume, you have a nice voice."

He smirked. I ignored it.

"Thanks for the food." I swung my legs over the side of the bed and placed them on the cold floor. Before I could stand, though, a large hand was on my shoulder once more, pulling me back into bed.

"You stay here."

"B-but I have school! I'll get in trouble again! I can't get another detention, I just can't! That's why I…."

He raised an eyebrow, expecting me to finish.

"That's why I feel so stressed," I lied. "Because I got home so late…"

"Polka, are you hiding something from me?" His eyes looked right into mine and I had to look away. Let me just say now that his eyes are the kind that I find _very_ difficult to lie to.

"Of course not, Natsume. Why would I?"

I could think of a few reasons he would come up with, but to me there were none but the obvious: I didn't want to involve him in my affairs. He would only wind up getting hurt and then he would leave me, just like my mother, just like my father, and just like Hotaru.

"Why are you crying then?"

I put a hand to my face and felt fresh tears running down the tracks made by their predecessors. Blast them.

"I…I don't know." I wiped them away. "I don't know, but it won't stop." I grabbed the corner of my sheet and used it to wipe my face. Natsume sat down on the bed next to me and crossed his legs. Turning so that he faced me completely, he ducked his head to meet me at face-level.

He didn't say anything, not that he needed to. I was perfectly content just being in his presence, as if managed to calm me down, as if I felt protected. I mentally scolded myself. It was stupid to feel protected by someone who probably didn't care that way about me. He was just being nice because I bandaged him up.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "That's right! Let me check your wounds!" I remembered having to stitch one up the other day and I wanted to clean it and make sure it hadn't gotten infected. I reached for his shirt buttons but he pushed me away and got off my bed.

"I can take care of myself Polka dots." I pouted. He'd returned to using that old name. "You stay here."

I watched him as he gathered the dishes and walked to the door. A question bubbled to my lips before I could stop it. "Where did you go? Yesterday, I mean. When you left." He looked back at me with that smirk on his face as if he had something he wanted to say. I felt my face heat up and I pulled my covers up under my eyes so I could just barely see him, but my face was hidden.

"It's a surprise, Polka dots." And then he turned and left and didn't come back. I waited, but the door stayed closed and there was no noise coming from downstairs, so I took that as my cue to go to sleep. I was beginning to feel a little drowsy….

Then I remembered throwing my arms around his neck and my face lit up bright red.

There was no longer a chance of sleep.

-----

After a few hours of lying in bed, tossing and turning and trying to think of what to say, I decided it was better to just get up. I had to think of a valid-sounding excuse for school, because telling them that someone cut my arm open would just bring up questions I didn't want to answer.

I decided to call the office and explain that I had a cold. I picked up the phone and dialed the number, and when the secretary answered—thankfully, it was the one that liked me—I held my nose to sound stuffy and spoke slowly like my head hurt too much to think.

"You poor dear," she said, and I suddenly felt guilty for lying to her. "You make sure to get plenty of rest."

I thanked her and replaced the phone in the cradle, then went to join Natsume in the living room. I sat down at the table across from him and watched him read, trying to peek at the title of the book he held in his hands. I failed, but it was still fun trying.

"What are you doing?" He asked, completely distracted by me.

"Nothing," I said quickly, which made me sound admittedly a little guilty of something. "What are _you_ doing?"

"Nothing anymore." He let out a sigh and put the book away. We then engaged in a staring contest.

I cocked my head. He did the same. I tilted it back, so did he. I shook it violently and he smirked, and then moved his hands forward as though to touch my eye.

And I blinked.

"I win," he said as he got up. "I'll be in the other room. I have some work to do."

He gathered some things—the book included—and retreated to his bedroom, leaving me to my own devices. I flipped on the TV and watched the afternoon soaps, wondering what kind of work he could possibly have when he wasn't enrolled in a high school. And to my knowledge, he didn't have a job, either.

I slammed my head down on the table, trying to think. But it's very hard to imagine what kind of a secret job your ex-gang housemate could possibly be hiding from you when Rebecca is cheating on Sam with Michael, whose wife, Angeline, is pregnant with what might not be his child, and Michelle just found out her father is an alcoholic and her mother died of brain cancer, which she has as well, and the attractive doctors tell her this as she sobs at the bedside of her comatose lover, Roberto Antonio Esteban Guttierez.

I swear, some of those stories are so far-fetched.


	14. NOT A CHAPTER

HELLO. THIS IS A NOTE. NOT A CHAPTER. DON'T KILL ME.

So. Dancing on Hot Coals is easily one of my favorite of my stories. It's so fun to write. And plan.

But this. Is. Crap.

I went back and read what I'd written previously and I almost died. Author suicide. I had a total spazz OMFG moment. For real.

So. This story is going to be deleted.

But NO WORRIES. It will be reposted. I love it too much not to. XD

I'm in the process of rewriting it, but I've got other things on my plate, so please don't expect anything until the middle of the month.

I start vacation on the 19th--keep an eye out after that. The repost will be under the same title.

Thanks for sticking with the story thus far.

;)

~Jazzy the slacker.


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